Taming the Obsessive Attachment

‘I know… I know.’

The Seo Eui-woo from the first life and the Seo Eui-woo from the second life were different.

They were the same person, yet not quite the same.

‘Seo Eui-woo, you don’t know anything about love…? You don’t even want to bother with something like that…?’

And yet, who was the one clinging persistently to someone who didn’t want them?

Who was the one crying miserably, begging to be noticed?

‘You… You… If I forget you… then you…’

You idiot…

‘Just wait and see. Seriously….’

Kwon Jae-jin wouldn’t—until Seo Eui-woo got down on his knees, tears streaming down his face, desperately pleading to date him—

Until then, never…

Kwon Jae-jin,

Never,

Not even a single word…!

***

The tablet screen flickered rapidly as it scrolled.

A massive mansion’s massive living room. A vast space decorated in a monochrome interior like a model house. Kwon Jae-jin was currently experiencing firsthand just how effective reckless spending could be in relieving stress.

Lying flat on his stomach on the sofa, he was fervently browsing through various shopping sites. Last time, he had deliberately indulged in overspending, focusing entirely on luxury brands he didn’t even care about. In the end, he never even unboxed most of those purchases. So this time, he was filling his cart with more practical equipment.

For example, a treadmill.

He even decided to set up a full home gym and selected various weight machines. Leg extension, leg press, butterfly, shoulder press, chest press, abdominal crunch, long pull.

Exercise equipment was expensive, with each piece costing around two to three million won. But considering Seo Eui-woo’s bank balance of 85 billion won, it was utterly ridiculous. Even after adding barbells and kettlebells to his order, he had barely managed to spend a few tens of millions.

‘It feels like trying to scoop sand with a shovel on a vast beach. It doesn’t even make a dent.’

Even if Kwon Jae-jin spent a billion won out of that 85 billion, it wouldn’t even leave a scratch on the balance.

Doing the math, it was the same as someone with 85 million won in total assets spending a mere 100,000 won.

Besides, Seo Eui-woo earned money at a much faster rate than Kwon Jae-jin could ever spend it. His billion-won salary was deposited like clockwork, with additional hazard pay, bonuses, separate travel expenses, and performance incentives… Not to mention the money idly accumulating in his bank accounts—there were probably investments somewhere, too, considering how dividends came pouring in every quarter. And whenever Seo Eui-woo’s footage was aired on broadcasts, there was another flood of money from the information transmission fees exclusive to Awakeners.

Seo Eui-woo was practically a walking corporation.

A lifetime business with guaranteed job security, as long as he didn’t die on a mission.

‘Shit, I should’ve asked for a whole building instead of a new house…’

They say only those who’ve spent money know how to spend it properly. Having lived his entire life as a salaried worker in the Sixth Residential District, Kwon Jae-jin’s spending scale was too small. Even last time, instead of buying a bike, he should’ve gone for a sports car.

‘Or maybe a helicopter. A private jet…’

Tch. Clicking his tongue sharply, Jae-jin turned off the tablet screen.

Even after recklessly purchasing whatever he could, his mood didn’t improve in the slightest. Spending in such tiny increments wouldn’t even put a dent in Seo Eui-woo’s finances, let alone alleviate his stress. If anything, it just made him more irritated.

Jae-jin slammed his forehead against the tablet screen.

Seo Eui-woo was always annoying, but today, he was especially unbearable.

In truth, Kwon Jae-jin already knew the reason.

Doubt crept in.

Maybe… Seo Eui-woo was right.

‘…Ha.’

Maybe he should just give it all up.

‘Lingering attachment, huh.’

Why was he clinging to this version of Seo Eui-woo, who didn’t even remember anything?

Why was he trying, once again, to be that bastard’s lover? Trying to hold onto him in his heart?

‘What the hell did Seo Eui-woo do right? What’s so fucking charming about him…?’

Realistically, all Kwon Jae-jin needed to do was survive.

Making it out of the gate that would open in four years and living a grand second life—that was his first and foremost goal.

As long as he could accomplish that, it didn’t really matter whether he dated Seo Eui-woo or not.

‘I’ve already made arrangements to move out, and once I leave this house, I’ll naturally avoid the gate… so I won’t die.’

As it stood, the second-life Kwon Jae-jin had already achieved his objective.

Survival.

‘On top of that, I can freely spend Seo Eui-woo’s assets as I please. You could say I’ve already achieved everything I wanted.’

In this situation, was there really any need to go through the pain of coaxing and appeasing Seo Eui-woo? For whose sake? Seo Eui-woo’s?

There was no reason to play the fool for him.

‘Yeah, maybe I should just do as Seo Eui-woo said—cleanly forget the past and start fresh in this second life.’

There was no need to become lovers with Seo Eui-woo. Keeping it clean and simple—establishing a new relationship purely as a Guide and Esper. That alone would be enough to secure the necessary cooperation, and in the long run, it might even be more stable than dating.

‘We’d just be business partners. Like coworkers.’

Besides, it wasn’t like Seo Eui-woo seemed interested in romance right now. His entire mind was consumed by guiding. He’d occasionally spout nonsense about how happy and satisfied he was, but that feeling was nothing more than his craving for guiding—not affection for Kwon Jae-jin as a person.

Proof of that was how Seo Eui-woo, despite noticing Jae-jin’s peculiarities long ago, didn’t press him further. Whatever relationship they had in the past, whatever Kwon Jae-jin knew about him—none of that seemed to be of much importance to Seo Eui-woo.

‘As long as he can get guiding from me, he doesn’t care about anything else.’

If he were genuinely curious about their past, he would’ve persistently interrogated him, refusing to let it go. But instead, Seo Eui-woo had chosen to win Jae-jin over—so he could secure guiding.

‘Yeah… Seo Eui-woo doesn’t have any particular feelings for me, and honestly, I… Why the hell should I waste my emotions on that bastard?’

Kwon Jae-jin turned off the tablet and grabbed the remote. He raised the TV volume and flipped through the channels. After the news came a home shopping channel, then a documentary channel. Commonplace dramas or movies depicting ordinary civilian life weren’t broadcast in Special Residential Zones.

A space documentary happened to be on. He had no idea what it was about, but his fingers stopped on the channel naturally.

The black-and-white contrast of space felt detached from reality. In the desaturated void of black, a white galaxy shimmered.

It was a vast, grand world—a higher realm. A place with no Espers, no Guides. A world free from Gate Impacts, Creatures, and humanity’s wars.

Far removed from Kwon Jae-jin’s reality.

Compared to the sheer scale of the universe, his worries felt more insignificant than dust.

Jae-jin absentmindedly listened as the narrator explained that Saturn was composed of hydrogen and helium, with 82 moons in its orbit. Titan, Enceladus, Mimas, Dione, Iapetus, Tethys, Hyperion, Epimetheus… The endless list of names was convoluted, complex—so unreal it was almost dreamlike.

“What are you watching? Is it interesting?”

Just as he was beginning to lose himself in the vastness of space, Seo Eui-woo appeared, ruffling his damp hair.

Jae-jin lazily lifted his gaze.

There stood Seo Eui-woo, shirtless, wearing only a pair of loose gray sweatpants.

Fresh out of the shower, he smelled of cool shampoo.

“A documentary…? I didn’t know you liked stuff like this, Jae-jin.”

His leisurely stride was ridiculously eye-catching.

The way he stretched his long legs, moving with a slow, relaxed ease, was like a well-fed lion—effortless, unhurried. His sculpted abs and chest, symmetrical and sharply defined, were as aesthetically flawless as Michelangelo’s David.

Yet, despite that strong physique, his soft, smiling face was pure and delicate, his slightly curved eyes exuding an innocent charm.

His damp black hair, still retaining a bit of its natural curl, lay in a tousled mess—making him look almost… sensual.

“I don’t particularly like it. I just turned it on.”

“Really? You seemed pretty focused for someone who doesn’t care.”

Smiling, Seo Eui-woo sauntered over and, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, took the seat beside Kwon Jae-jin.

Then, without hesitation, he wrapped an arm around Jae-jin’s waist and pulled him in, resting him against his bare chest.

Kwon Jae-jin leaned against him, staring up.

Even from this low angle, Seo Eui-woo’s sharp jawline remained perfectly chiseled, not a trace of excess flesh.

What was his body fat percentage?

Jae-jin estimated around 5 to 6 percent.

He briefly let his gaze wander across the contours of Seo Eui-woo’s abs—his rectus abdominis, external obliques, intercostal muscles, serratus anterior.

Then he clicked his tongue inwardly, tore his eyes away, and refocused on the TV screen.

He had just managed to escape reality, immersing himself in Saturn, only for Seo Eui-woo to show up and ruin it all.

‘Not sure if I’d call it lingering attachment… But at the very least, I should start distancing myself from Seo Eui-woo.’